


Transformers Odyssey Act 1: Earth

by Zeible



Series: Transformers: Ages of Cybertron [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: (But one that is no less an AU than the major continuities are from each other), (Didn't know a better tag for it), (With GI Joe), Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24455620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeible/pseuds/Zeible
Summary: 200 years after the end of the Great War with the death of Galvatron, peace has become the norm on Cybertron...after a fashion. That fragile illusion is broken when a team of Decepticons, led by Cyclonus, assassinate Rodimus Prime and steal the Matrix of Leadership.They flee Cybertron, and when the provisional government refuses to sanction a full response, it's down to a team of Autobots led by a Predacon turned Peace Marshall named Blackwind, who seeks to avenge Rodimus, to hunt Cyclonus and Co. down and recover the Matrix.
Relationships: Autobots (Transformers)/Original Female Character(s), Chromia/Windblade, Original Cybertronian Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Cybertronian Character(s)/Original Cybertronian Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: Transformers: Ages of Cybertron [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766326
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue: The Last Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Val, for making me get off my ass and finally write this.

The trouble with meetings, Rodimus thought, is that you had to _meet_ people for them to work out. Grimly, the Autobot leader surveyed the half-empty stands of the Cybertronian Senate. He could make out a few familiar faces among the thin crowd, mostly Autobots. Mixed in were the representatives of the Predacon tribes, and those Senators elected from the loyalist Decepticons here on Cybertron and its colony worlds. Almost all of them looked utterly _bored_ and annoyed at being here.

Not because it was a holiday, of course, though that had a lot to do with it. Sentinel Prime’s Ignition Day would’ve been forgotten altogether, had it not been for the Sentinels. They were the most conservative wing of the Autobot coalition, and to a bot they had all recused themselves from this meeting of the senate to observe the day their idol had been brought online. Rodimus hadn’t been brought online until after Sentinel Prime’s death, but he had a feeling that even if he had known his mentor’s predecessor personally he wouldn’t be half as enthusiastic about this day as the Sentinels were. If even _half_ the things that senior Autobots had told him about Sentinel Prime were true, he probably would’ve been celebrating his _death_ day a lot more passionately than this.

All the same, the Sentinels had explicitly said that they didn’t wish the Senate to close on their account, and so here he was with a little more than half of the usual members of government to discuss some bill or another. Being Prime had never been Rodimus’s idea of a good time, but it seemed like every day was struggling to top the last in the competition to be the most intolerably _dull_ day of his brief life. At the moment, an aging Autobot (Who looked like he might’ve been old Kup’s spark-father with the weary way he carried himself) was approaching the speaker’s podium. Despite his attempt at decorum, Rodimus couldn’t help but roll his optics. There wasn’t going to be _anything_ good or productive about this, especially with the numbers all-but evenly split between Autobot, Predacon, and Decepticon. He lamented that Swoop was late; the Dinobot was among his few friends left with any place in government, even if it _was_ just to serve as the administrative aid to one of the Predacon representatives. He would’ve easily brightened the mood with his usual chipper demeanor and irreverent banter. 

“I would like to bring to the Senate’s attention the latest bill proposed by the Friends of Iacon…”

There was an undisguised groan throughout the building, from all wings. Even Rodimus sighed out loud; the Friends of Iacon were one of the more infamously reactionary lobby groups. With the Sentinels gone, no-one would be around to argue on its behalf. In a way, this was a good thing; if there was one thing the more progressive Autobots, the Predacons, and the Decepticons could agree on, it’d be that the Friends of Iacon weren’t worth even a klik of your time. Hopefully, they could dismiss whatever this was and get on with their lives-

His irritated thoughts were cut off when an Autobot Senator stood up and shouted something that Rodimus couldn’t quite make out. Before he could intervene and ask the bot to repeat himself, the mystery Autobot had transformed and flown down to the podium. At the same time, Rodimus’s danger senses flared; all around, he noticed a sudden hustle and bustle from different corners of the Senate hall. Bots from all corners were stepping forward or suddenly standing up or fiddling with _something_ or other. 

What happened next all came too fast for him to process; simultaneously the various aggressors all screamed out, and _exploded_ into bursts of Energon-fire. The room became filled with blue energy, and before he could do anything to shield himself, a wave of it hit Rodimus head on. He was blasted backward, and joined in the growing chorus of screams as he writhed in pain atop the blasted heap that had been his chair. He lay there for several cycles, until his repair systems began to kick in. The damage to him was severe, but not quite enough to require stasis lock. The pain died away, and he was able to steady himself. 

Just as Rodimus Prime was beginning to regain consciousness, though, a new terror emerged. With a roar and a blur of golden light, something raced around the room. It hacked and slashed too fast for him to see, slaughtering those Senators who had survived the blast. He noticed that, rather than going for targets of strict opportunity, they seemed to be picking and choosing here and there. As if there was some specific, designated pattern they were working with.

There had been enough analysis, though. He wasn’t going to just stand there and let them finish this slaughter. He was Rodimus Prime, and Primes didn’t hide and they didn’t _run_ . Optimus didn’t die for _nothing_ , and neither would he! 

With great effort, Rodimus stood up to his full height. He raised up his arms and blasted at the assailant, managing a glancing blow. The golden blur roared in pain and came to a halt, and revealed itself to be a familiar mechanical lion, grizzled and scarred with age. It snarled at him defiantly, locking its golden eyes with his. 

“Razorclaw!” Rodimus hissed, pain seeping into his voice despite his best efforts.

“Prime!” The Predacon turned Decepticon shouted back, admiration in his husky voice, “You survived! Good! I had hoped for the honor of slaying you!”

The lion transformed into the familiar Decepticon warrior, Razorclaw. He grinned, baring his feline teeth. The savage warrior pounced across the room towards Rodimus, who stepped out of the way- though not quickly enough to avoid being slashed across the torso. The Autobot roared with pain, and saw that blue energon was seeping out of his chest. Razorclaw was well named; his claws had dug straight through the Prime’s chest, and had spilled his lifeblood onto the floor. 

But Rodimus wasn’t the rookie he’d been when they’d _first_ fought, centuries ago. He immediately spun around and aimed his six blasters at the warrior, and fired them across his back in rapid succession. He hit the mark, and scored the back of the Decepticon’s torso with deep wounds that faintly _glowed_ with Energon. 

Razorclaw grunted with pain, and knelt to the floor briefly. He spun around, then leapt away again, transforming in the same fluid motion. In lion mode, he ran for some cover. Rodimus began to pursue, when a familiar roaring sound came from across the Senate.

The Autobot turned and, with horror, beheld a very familiar purple jet flying towards him.

“Cyclonus!” Rodimus bellowed, raising one of his arms upwards to fire his blasters at the Decepticon. All of his shots missed, his arms being too shaken by hydraulic damage and his target far too agile to land a blow against. 

Expecting a strafe, Rodimus was instead surprised when the Decepticon transformed and landed back to the ground. Cyclonus was a bit shorter than Rodimus, the crest upon his head notwithstanding. He was among the most imposing Decepticons, and had always managed to look like the second most dangerous bot in the room. Only second because Rodimus had never seen him without being at Megatron’s side- or Galvatron’s side, if he wanted to be pedantic.

“It was foolish of you to come here in person, Rodimus,” the Decepticon remarked, approaching Rodimus slowly and surely. “And more so not to run. I admire your courage, all the same.”

Rodimus spat oil at Cyclonus’s feet. “Your admiration means _nothing_ to me, monster.”

Cyclonus scowled, and his red eyes seemed to flare for a moment. He stomped right up to Rodimus’s face, and leaned in close. “You would call me a monster for doing what I must. But you do not understand. I have no more choice than-”

He didn’t get to finish his little speech. Rodimus, as fed up with this Decepticon’s prattling as he was certain of his own impending death, slammed a haymaker _hard_ into Cyclonus’s chest, sending the Decepticon flying. He pulled up his blaster, steading his good arm with his other hand. 

He only paused long enough to aim, but that alone was too much. 

There was a sudden, sharp stab of pain through his abdomen, and Rodimus looked down to see a shining metal blade piercing through his torso, coated in glowing energon. He felt cold hands creep around his face, and a familiar, smoky voice whispered directly into his audio receptors.

“Don’t worry, Rodimus. You’ll finally get to tell Optimus you’re sorry. Oh, and I’ll make sure to tell your Sparkmate that _you’re_ sorry, too…”

The last thing Rodimus saw before his Spark left his body was the smirking face of Slipstream, her crimson eyes boring into him like the fires of the Pit itself. 

* * *

Cyclonus scowled in dissatisfaction as he crawled out of the pile of wreckage he’d been thrown into. Too late, he heard the Autobot’s death throes and raced over to where the Prime’s throne had been before the explosion. Across the room from him, Slipstream was caressing Rodimus’s face mockingly, as he stood there dying. The Autobot leader’s body turned grey and lifeless. Slipstream subsequently withdrew her blade and unceremoniously let him drop to the floor. 

Before Cyclonus could intervene, the Seeker nonchalantly propped Rodimus up, and rooted around in his ruined torso. With a dark chuckle, she pulled the glowing Autobot Matrix of Leadership from out of Rodimus’s chest, and held it aloft.

“Mmmmm, so much power...in such a gaudy little package! Seriously, why is it _orange_ ? Ugh, Solus Prime had _no_ sense of aesthetics, let me tell you.”

Cyclonus all but spat out his words. “Hand. It. Over. _Now_.”

Slipstream sighed theatrically, and then tossed the priceless relic over to him like it was a toy she was tossing to her pet. Cyclonus caught it, and then carefully held it up to inspect it. It didn’t _appear_ damaged, a small miracle considering the damage wrought upon Rodimus’s body.

“The thing’s indestructible, or so I’ve heard…” Slipstream said absently, wiping the Energon off her sword before experimentally sniffing at it. 

“Let’s hope the Autobots haven’t heard too much about that, then.” He placed the Matrix in a side compartment, before pulling out the battered replica Blackarachnia had made. It _looked_ identical, save for the severe damage it had sustained. The scoring and distortion matched that which now badly mangled Rodimus Prime’s torso. Of course, it also lacked the blue crystal within, but that was part of the ruse; there was no way to replicate the real deal, so it was made to look as though the wisdom within had been extinguished by the explosion alongside the Autobot’s spark.

From somewhere behind Slipstream, a low growl arose. The two Decepticons stared in unison as the energon-soaked Razorclaw crept out from the darkness towards them. Most of it wasn’t his own, of course, but enough was to give Cyclonus pause.

“He certainly didn’t go down without a fight,” Slipstream remarked, observing the blast wounds scoring the Predacon’s back, “Though I’m surprised _you_ had trouble with him. He’d just been hit by an explosion, and he’s been stuck manning a desk for the last century…”

The lion growled, before resuming his robot form. “Another _word_ , Seeker, and I’ll pull your Spark out and make you _eat it._ ”

Slipstream just laughed. “Of course, Razorclaw. I meant no disrespect; honestly, it was an _amazing_ showing compared to our glorious leader over here.”

Razorclaw eyed Cyclonus, and to his dismay the Predacon’s face darkened. “How did you become injured?”

“I...allowed myself to be distracted,” the Decepticon admitted, “But I would have had him soon enough, if Slipstream hadn’t interfered.”

The Seeker scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, you wanted me to _let_ him stand there and blast you to pieces?”

Before Cyclonus could offer a retort, Razorclaw raised a clawed hand. That was his way of telling them to be quiet. His auditory sensors picked up a sound, so faint he couldn’t hear it before over the sound of bickering; metal, straining under something’s weight, at the far end of the room.

Slowly, he turned his head and saw something blue hiding in the grey rafters of the Senate. Cautiously, he raised his blaster and took aim at whatever this interloper was. 

He took aim, and fired. Millennia of practice in battle and in countless training sessions had refined his aim to an art, and Cyclonus’s aim struck true. Unfortunately, he soon saw that he had only hit the most thickly armored portion of his target; a Predacon (Or at least, a Predacon-type Autobot) in beast mode. It was in the form of some long-necked flying beast, which soon descended from the rafters and gracefully flew out of the room. 

“Scrap!” Cyclonus shouted. “An Autobot survivor is the _last_ thing we need!”

Without a word, Razorclaw transformed and gave chase. Slipstream put a hand on her hip and turned to Cyclonus, clearly unperturbed by this unforeseen risk to their plans. “While our kitty cat’s off making sure that little birdie doesn’t tell anyone what happened, why don’t we get our little getaway ride up and running?”

Cyclonus nodded. “Razorclaw will make it back in time, and we haven’t a moment to lose in any case. I’ll meet you in Kaon- and Slipstream?”

She quirked an eye. “Yes?”

“No more going off script. We have a mission to fulfill, the last command that grand Galvatron left for us to fulfill.”

The Seeker smirked. “Oh, you have my word, Cyclonus; I won’t do _anything_ that Galvatron himself wouldn’t approve of.”


	2. A Quiet City

Iacon was a quiet city, ever since the Autobots had won the Great War over two-hundred stellar cycles ago. The Omega Sentinels had a strong presence here, and that kept most people from any major disturbances. There was plenty of high class crime, of course- what Humans called "white collar", from those weird bits of cloth they wrapped themselves up in. That wasn't Blackwind's beat, though. She didn't become a Peace Marshall just to arrest people for tax fraud, as satisfying as that often was. She was a warrior, and then a soldier; the more dangerous the prey, the more suited she was to it. 

Thus, she was out here in the Scrapyard; true to its name, the Iacon Scrapyard was loaded down with discarded machinery and other refuse. The most gruesome thing about Scrapyards though was how often you found _bodies_ here. If a bot was too poor, or too unloved to be properly recycled or interred, they were unceremoniously dumped out here. Sometimes that happened to bots that were still alive, and just in stasis lock.

Those bots didn't usually stay alive for very long.

Much as she wished it was something as charitable as a search and rescue for the dispossessed though, that wasn't why Blackwind was here. Instead, she'd taken the assignment to track down a gang of rogue 'Cons, holdouts from the war who'd gotten within spitting distance of the city proper. Her nominal orders were to negotiate; she knew the Sentinels were expecting her to kill them, the more politically convenient and less _just_ move. Naturally, Blackwind intended to disappoint them by following their orders to the letter.

The only trouble was that she was stuck with a squad less than suited to the task. Her usual partner was MIA, as usual. Depth Charge had a grudge against just _one_ Decepticon, and if the mission didn't lead towards the cyclops he didn't want in on it. The bot was one disciplinary charge away from being stripped even of his probationary status.

Instead, she was here with some Great War vets she'd hoped to avoid for another millennium or two. Brawn, a demolitions expert with too much hydraulic muscle and a chip on his shoulder. Huffer, a construction worker who'd raised grousing to an art form. Last of all there was Bluestreak; a dependable enough bot, but seemingly incapable of shutting the _Pit_ up. 

"Say," the aforementioned bot said, fiddling with her knife, "Any of you ever notice how much stuff bots just throw away around here? I mean what's that over there, is that a Nebulon Make Fusion Accelerator? That's a good model and it looks brand new, who would just-"

"Shut up!" Huffer shouted, loud enough to be heard kilometers away. "Please, for the love of Prima just _shut up!"_

Brawn roared, and in seeming agreement with Huffer slammed his fist into a nearby junk pile for emphasis. 

"Why are we even out here!?" Brawn bellowed. "These 'Cons aren't worth our time! Who cares if they're _technically_ in Iacon? It's the Scrapyard!"

"Yeah," Huffer added with a sage nod, "It's practically a waste of time and Energon, sending us!"

Blackwind sighed quietly, and turned around. She was the point bot, so that went against every combat instinct she had. It _also_ went against every combat instinct she had to risk her team fragging each other out of sheer irritation. "I appreciate that this isn't a terribly glamorous assignment," she began, her voice a cool whisper, "But the time for submitting complaints was a couple solar cycles ago, when you three were all first told of this assignment."

Huffee let out a whine. "We didn't know it was gonna be _here_ back then! I thought this was gonna be some easy gig handling a buncha leftover 'cons somewhere outside 'a town!"

"That is _exactly_ what we're doing," Blackwind began, heroically keeping her exasperation from showing through at his brazen idiocy, "Now will you focus on the task at hand, please? When we're done, you can give Prowl a piece of your mind over all this to your Spark's content."

Brawl huffed. "If it was a straight-up fight, fine. I hate all this sneaking around, is the thing!"

As the other three started slipping back into their bickering, the Peace Marshall gave up on trying to get them to act like soldiers and just focused ahead. There wasn't anything ahead of note, anyway; just more endless piles of junk. She half expected Wreck-Gar to pop out of one of the piles and start singing, but thankfully not even the Decepticons would be _that_ insidious. 

There was _one_ thing that caught her eye, suddenly. Something black, half-buried under the gruesome, rusted heap that was suspiciously similar in shape to a Transformer's chassis. Cautiously, she approached it, scanning it from a distance first. Her eyes, being Predacon eyes, were far more acute than those of her comrades. It was a tightly woven cable of synthsteel around a core of protometal. razor sharp in places, though too thick to slice cleanly through everything. Another minor hazard for walking around here, among countless other obstacles. Nothing should have been remarkable about it, but its placement...it was too _neat._ Someone had put it there recently…

Then, suddenly, there was the deep, unpleasant sound of metal straining. With a terrible clarity Blackwind could see piles of junk shifting and shaking as she saw the cable growing taut. It slowly sliced through the more fragile bits of metal, and displaced the others. Before she could even fully process what was happening, instinct kicked in and she rocketed into the air and flew right past the rusted corpse. 

"Move! All of you!" Blackwind cried, and thankfully they forgot their bickering and took heed. Unfortunately, they were all too slow. The cable's function was now obvious to Blackwind; it was part of a net, around 60 meters in radius. It was wide enough to catch all of them, though Blackwind had moved out of the way quickly enough to be well outside it now. 

Her squad mates weren't so lucky; Bluestreak had shifted into her vehicle mode, but she was struggling mightily against the uneven terrain. Brawn, the idiot, was trying to climb the nearby pile. Only Huffer seemed to be making any progress at all, thanks to his rough and ready vehicle mode. All the same, there was no way he'd clear the contracting net in time. Not without help, anyway.

With quiet resignation, Blackwind shifted to her vehicle mode, that of an Earth-made jet that had been hyper advanced when she last visited a few solar cycles ago. In a quick, fluid motion, she fired a tow cable at Huffer that grasped his front bumper. She rocketed away from the net, barely even feeling the weight of Huffer as he screamed his complaints. Despite his resistance, she managed to pull him clear of the net before it snapped into place.

She detached her cable, unceremoniously dropping Huffer to the ground. Reverting to robot mode, she spun around and desperately hoped there was a chance to free the others; but it was too late. Poor Bluestreak and Brawn were snatched up in the nets, and screamed in pain as the razor sharp cables cut into their hulls. 

She pulled out her sword, and readied herself to fly up and cut them free. Before she could, a mocking voice cut in. 

"I wouldn't do that," purred a deep, sultry over a speaker, "We've got a kill switch set in to make those cables go hot. If you don't want your friends to get short circuited, you'll do as I say."

Immediately, Blackwind lowered her sword and stowed it back in her wing compartments. She looked over at Huffer, who was back in robot mode and looking _very_ tense, but not otherwise rattled. He may have been surly, but she knew from their time in the Great War that he was no coward. 

The Peace Marshall tilted her head up, and projected in a commanding tone. "Fine. Tell me who you are, and then what you want."

As if in answer to her former question, a large, treaded machine rolled around a nearby corner. It was an arctic warfare vehicle, one she recognized it from her brief time in the Earth territory of Sápmi while working with a Human paramilitary organization. One particular Decepticon had taken it on as an alt mode...

"Snow Cat," Blackwind said coolly, "Was wondering where you'd skulked off to."

The Decepticon transformed, and grimaced at Blackwind. She was broad, but significantly shorter than the statuesque Blackwind. Still, the 'Con had some impressive cannons built into her left arm, and her right was a powerful claw. Not someone Blackwind wanted to fight, if she could avoid it.

"Not just her!" A deep, husky voice shouted. Out of the corner of her right sensor, Blackwind perceived something large walking towards her. It was a _very_ familiar silhouette.

"Demolishor, how _nice_ to see you." Blackwind said, not risking taking her eyes off of Snow Cat. Subtly, she motioned for Huffer to take up that flank. He got the hint, and carefully shimmied over to that side, though she knew he couldn't do much against the Constructicon with his limited armament.

"Been a while, Hawk-girl. Surprised you're still with them Autobots. Heard they tried puttin' you in one o' them _aviaries._ " 

"Demolishor, please. No need for rudeness." Snow Cat purred. 

"Yeah," another familiar voice cut in, this time from the left flank, "That's _my_ job, heh."

The sound of tires against junk and the familiar flash of blue combined with the gaudy external engine...Blackwind would've known _that_ profile anywhere. The bot shifted to robot mode, and the Decepticon wasted no time leveling his blaster at the now-surrounded Peace Marshall.

"Dropkick. Nice of you to drop in. Any other second stringers you got with you? Some leftover Seeker, perhaps. Or is it really just the three of you?"

Snow Cat snarled, and Blackwind steeled herself. She was walking on a razor's edge here, and teetering badly.

"None of your usual lip, Blackwind. We've got you by the bearings, now."

The Autobot nodded, but said nothing. She briefly looked over at Huffer, whose resolve was clearly starting to crumble. They'd been in tight spots before, but that had been in the old days. It was always easier to be brave in a conflict where you felt your death mattered than when facing a pointless and ignominious death like this one would be. 

"It's going to be okay, Huffer," Blackwind said, loud enough for the 'Cons to hear, "I'm not going to risk any of your lives."

Snow Cat grinned wickedly. "Ahhh, loyalty. My favorite of Autobot virtues, the closest to something sensible I've ever seen from you lot."

The Decepticon continued, all while casually brandishing her blaster-covered arm. "If you leave now, and...oh, maybe leave us _one_ of your bots as a hostage, we'll let the rest of you go, no trouble. If you do that, we'll hand over the hostage. Provided, of course, that you tell that _spike_ , Prowl, that we're going to be needing free transport off planet."

Blackwind considered the offer, and sincerely at that. Unfortunately, it didn't take her long to conclude that it was a completely rotten deal. "Prowl won't care about a hostage," She turned to Dropkick. "As you might recall from that incident with Punch back in 1999."

Dropkick spat out crude oil, and growled. "She's right, Snow. Prowl's always been a sparkless valve. He's not going to bother with one hostage when he could catch three 'Cons."

He was wrong, of course, but he had every reason to be. Prowl loved cultivating an image of ruthlessness to help his negotiation strength. He engineered incidents like that to give the lie some credibility. To the Decepticons, the incident in question had been one in which Prowl had hung Punch out to dry rather than exchange anyone for him, which was a clear death sentence for the Autobot. In truth, Punch had simply been put back where he was most useful; where he could spy on the Decepticons in the guise of his "counterpart", his fictional twin Counterpunch. Eventually, using that cover identity he extracted himself quite easily. The 'Cons had always thought that the Insecticon Waspinator was behind his escape, and through incompetence rather than treachery. 

Snow Cat snarled. "Alright then, Blackwind, you have ten kliks to tell me why we shouldn't kill you and your friends _right now_."

The Autobot smirked. "Oh, that's easy. Because if you try to kill me, all of you will die."

There was a brief, dreadful pause that was broken rudely by Demolishor's flippant laughter. "Hahahaha! Sure, yeah, you'll kill all of us by yourself, I take it?"

"Well," Blackwind noted dryly, "I certainly _could._ I'd put myself at...oh, 50-50 odds of success against you three. Of course, the odds are definitely better seeing as I'm _not_ alone." She smiled down at Huffer, whose expression suggested he wasn't exactly appreciating the sudden vote of confidence.

"You know," Dropkick said, sounding resigned, "I remember how you knocked out Bruticus, back in the battle of Metroplex. Nasty work there, not what you usually see from Predacons."

Blackwind laughed. "What, that? I barely even remember that sideshow. You should've seen me...oh, right. You don't know, do you?"

"Know _what_." Snow Cat demanded, uncertainty underlying her tone. 

"That I killed Starscream. You were all wondering how he went down, I imagine? In all the confusion of the battle at Autobot City?"

Blackwind let the comment hang, knowing the unspoken truth none of them would admit; all three had deserted well before that slaughter that had killed more than half the bots on both sides. By the end of things, she was the only flyer left on the Autobot side, and had to drive off half the Seekers by herself. No-one else had seen it, and in truth she hated bragging about her battles, but now wasn't the time for Blackwind to let her anxieties stop her.

"I'll make you a deal," Blackwind said, sounding more reluctant than she felt, "Let us go, all of us. You all? Turn yourselves in to Prowl. He's ruthless, but he's no hanging judge." As an aside, she added. "Otherwise they'll probably just said the Omega Sentinels in after you, and well...they don't take prisoners when they're fighting renegade 'Cons."

The three Decepticons mulled it all over, shooting each other furtive and suspicious glances.

Finally, Snow Cat held up a remote, the one controlling the razor cable net her squad mates were trapped in. With a scream of frustration, she tapped a button that dropped Brawn and Bluestreak to the floor and released the net. The two Autobots scrambled out of it, Energon leaking from lacerations all over their bodies as they stumbled away from the razor net. Blackwind shot them a glance that said 'Stay there, this isn't over yet' better than words would have.

"Go. We'll turn ourselves in before the end of the Solar Cycle. Tell Prowl we cooperated-"

"NO!" Demolishor shouted, and before anyone else could react he charged at the pair of Autobots. Huffer, much to his credit, kept his cool and blasted at the Constructicon with precise aim. Unfortunately, his pea shooter couldn't do so much as scorch Demolishor's armor, and he wisely leapt to the side.

Blackwind wasn't too concerned. Demolishor was only a threat as long as she couldn't focus on him, and with his allies too uncertain to intervene in time he was a trivial challenge. As the huge bot charged straight for Blackwind, she pulled out her blade and spun to the side in one fluid motion. As he passed her by, she swung back around and brought the edge of her blade straight through his neck in a smooth arc. 

Demolishor's head flew clear of his body, and sailed into the nearby pile of scrap. His body charged forward a few places before finally giving up the ghost, and collapsed to the ground. It spasmed wildly a few times, but at last was still.

"Yeah," Dropkick said, laughing darkly, " _Definitely_ glad it was him and not me."

Blackwind inclined her head politely, even as she _desperately_ wanted to deck the 'Con so hard his Spark would feel it. 

Snow Cat withdrew, and motioned to Brawn and Bluestreak. "Take them and go, already! We don't want any more trouble!"

Huffer stepped out from behind Blackwind, and shook his head. The two of them walked over to their injured comrades. None of them, not even Bluestreak, were in much of a mood to chat. They walked silently, Blackwind supporting Brawn while Huffer helped Bluestreak stand. 

She managed to get her crew to the nearest Security Station, and had the two injured bots placed into CR chambers. Huffer, after venting his frustration and suppressed terror, clocked out and headed off to the nearest oil house to drown it all out. Blackwind wasn't feeling much better, but she never got much relief from drinking. After filing her report and recording a laconic verbal summary for Prowl, she clocked out too and took flight, heading for her apartment downtown. She needed warm Energon and a sturdy berth right now, and maybe a hot cleaning while she was at it.

She transformed into jet form, and sped across the Iacon skyline towards home. 

Unbeknownst to her, someone was there waiting for her...


	3. Swoop and a Spike

Blackwind’s place was a nice high rise far away from busy air traffic routes. All flyers tried for that kind of apartment, since it just wasn't in their natures to accept a grounded life. As she approached her landing, she noticed that something was _off_ . She transformed to robot mode and gently hovered down to her little porch. There were odd markings in the steel floor, oddly _familiar_ ones…

Her suspicions heightened as she approached the sliding transparent steel door, and saw that it wasn't locked. She'd _definitely_ left it locked, yet it hadn't been forced open. She wracked her banks for anyone who might've known it, but the only bots she'd entrusted security codes to were ground based. They'd have gone in through the 'normal' door, not the porch. What was going on?

Her question was answered when she slid it open, and saw a familiar metal _Quetzalcoatlus_ lounging on her casual berth. 

"Swoop?!" Blackwind asked, incredulous.

The Dinobot moved his enormous beast mode head at her, and didn’t exactly _smile_ , but something approaching that happened at least. “Blackwind! About time you got here!”

For once, the Peace Marshall was at an utter loss for words. Here was an old comrade she hadn’t seen in over a _century_ just sitting on her _couch_ in his absurd beast mode like it was the most normal thing in the world. There was a worrying black scorch mark across his back, too. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but he _also_ had her plasma viewscreen on, and looked to be watching trashy space operas. 

“Swoop I...what in the Pit are you doing here?! Are you hurt?”

“No I’m not hurt, it was just a glancing shot. Anyway, I’m...what was I...OH RIGHT!” The Dinobot leapt up on all fours and galloped over to Blackwind, nearly colliding with her. 

“It’s important! What was it…,” he trailed off briefly, “Yes! The Senate, it got blown up! Someone stole the Matrix! Less than a megacycle ago! We need to move quickly!”

“I...you...what?! The Senate was destroyed?! Is anyone hurt?! Who stole the Matrix?! What's happened to Rodimus!?” Why hadn’t she heard about this? Why was _Swoop_ of all bots the first one to tell her.

“Oh yes, everyone that was there is dead. All dead, very dead! Especially Rodimus!”

Everything seemed to blur, for a moment. Blackwind felt herself lose control of her body. She stumbled backwards, and collapsed at the foot of her chair. “I...they...who did this, Swoop…” 

“Decepticons! Cyclonus, and some others! That mean Seeker lady, you know, Starscream’s twin? She did it! I think Cyclonus is in charge, though. Or something like that.”

 _“Slipstream_ ,” Blackwind hissed, slowly regaining herself. She had something to focus on; there was someone that needed to be brought in, ok. She could handle this. Any thoughts of reporting it to her superiors didn’t enter her mind; if it happened _that_ recently, immediate action was needed. “You saw...her. You saw her do this?”

Swoop nodded, and nearly impaled Blackwind on his massive metal beak in the process.

“Can you transform, please?!” She all but screamed at him, her normally bottomless patience for his quirks having instantly evaporated as soon as she learned that Rodimus, a bot she’d mentored since he was barely more than a protoform, had been _murdered_ along with the Senate. 

He tilted his head, confused, before recognizing at last the potential issues his gangly beast mode led to. With a sigh of resignation, Swoop shifted into his lean and lanky robot mode. “Anyway, yeah I saw her do it and uh...oh right. Razorclaw was there, too.”

“Was there? Razorclaw? Razorclaw the...the one we both were taught by as sparklings?”

The Dinobot nodded eagerly, a goofy smile on his face. “Yep! He’s probably tracking me here right now! Then he’s going to meet Cyclonus and She-Scream somewhere in Kaon?”

Blackwind took a deep breath, cycling the air through her pipes and cleaning out the stress-induced buildup of soot and condensation. “Alright, so...the most dangerous Predacon of all time, the eldest member of our race...is chasing us here. To my apartment. _Right now_. You led him here, and you also didn’t think to tell anyone higher up what’s going on?”

Swoop cocked his head. “Why would I do that…?”

“Nevermind. I’ll do it, and then you and I? Are going straight to Kaon. Got it?”

Her old comrade nodded eagerly. “Oooh, we could stop by Onixion and get the other Dinobots! And maybe some other Preds, then-”

“No time. You and me? We’re going _right_ to Kaon. You and I are going to transform, we’re going to _fly_ , and on the way I’m going to call on whatever _remotely_ reliable help I can while dispatching a report straight to Prowl about this. With _any_ luck we’ll be able to stop them before they do _whatever_ they’re doing in Kaon, and if we can’t we’ll be able to get intel and give it to somebody who _can_ stop them. Did you get all that?”

“Nope, didn’t even catch half of that! But we’re gonna scrap some ‘Cons, right?”

Blackwind let out a long-suffering sigh. Honestly, she was glad Swoop was so obnoxious. It was a nice distraction from the welling black pool of grief within her that was threatening to overwhelm her. 

It also indirectly reminded her of another annoyance she'd have to deal with before leaving; her boss.

With weary resignation, she turned back to Swoop. "Actually, before we hunt down Razorclaw, we have to do something else. We have to talk to Prowl."

Swoop gagged. "Noooooo! Why? Can we not? Please?"

"No, we can't. We _have_ to talk to him, or else this whole thing will be unsanctioned."

"But unsanctioned things are more fun!"

"Oh just come on you little maniac, we've got to hurry!" She spun around and transformed into her alt mode, and rocketed away into the air. Swoop clearly struggled to keep up, and eventually she settled on letting him just cling onto her as she flew at supersonic speeds to their destination.

* * *

Prowl's HQ was a refreshingly modest building by the standards of Autobot Justicars. It was a former apartment complex at the edge of Iacon that overlooked the Scrapyard. It had been abandoned during the war, and even before it had been part of the slum this part of the city used to be. The Autobot commander bought the building, and then rehomed the former inhabitants to new dwellings closer to Iacon's heart. At the time, Prowl had noted that a building so near the Scrapyard was a good place for a justicar to remain. He was one of the few who viewed his job as _actually_ being that which it was on paper. That is to say, he felt that apprehending war criminals and keeping an eye on the safety of the city's poorer districts was the more important part of his job. 

That left him regrettably outnumbered amongst the Justicars who oversaw the Peace Marshalls, but it was leagues ahead of the prewar justice system. Of course, with Rodimus and most of his more progressive allies in the Senate dead... it'd be a miracle if that lasted long.

The complex was abuzz with activity, and Blackwind had the feeling it wasn't unrelated to the news Swoop had given her. No sooner had she and him entered through the roof entrance than they were approached by one of Blackwind's colleagues, Blurr. 

"Blackwind what're you doing did you hear about the bombing holy scrap it's bad Rodimus is dead the Matrix is destroyed and nobody knows who did it what are we gonna do!"

She raised her hand. "I know who did it, Blurr. I also know that the Matrix wasn't really destroyed, but stolen. Most of all, I know that I need to talk to Prowl about all this _immediately._ "

For a moment, even Blurr was at a loss for words. Then he straightened up and saluted, running off at blinding speed to go inform the Justicar. 

"He talks so much," Swoop blandly stated, looking a bit dizzy, "I think he talks too fast, too."

Blackwind resisted the urge to groan, and just led Swoop through the building towards Prowl's office a floor below them. She cut through the crowd and waved off everyone trying to reach her, until she finally reached Prowl's room.

The Justicar was sitting at his desk, looking at once bewildered and overcome, as Blurr walked out the room without a word. 

"Blackwind," Prowl uttered quietly, "Come here."

Gingerly, she crossed into his office. Swoop began to follow her then, clearly thinking better of that idea, headed out to wait in the hallway. Blackwind had a feeling that'd go poorly, but she wasn't really interested in dealing with him herself right now.

"Blurr has given me the rough outline of what you told him...I think." Prowl was looking up at his subordinate, his pale blue eyes shimmering faintly. It was a rare expression of emotions on his part, showing just how much this news had affected him. 

"I was rather brief. Let me tell you everything Swoop told me…"

She proceeded to lay out all the details that the Dinobot had shared with her earlier that day. When she had finished, Prowl looked like he had after the battle of Autobot City. 

"This is...quite serious. We have to act. Immediately." He stood up, and plugged himself into his external computer.

Blackwind nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I'm sending all this information to the surviving Senators, the other Justicars, and all the other members of the original Autobots," he turned to her, a serious look on his face, "I have a feeling we're going to be needing that last group more than ever in the coming months."

"Yes, sir." Blackwind understood Prowl's concerns all too well. The Autobots, back before the Great War, had been outlawed as terrorists for their efforts- largely peaceful, at that- to end the hierarchical domination of Cybertron by a few bots and their clans. The Sentinels were inheritors of the old pre-war way of doing things, and had chosen the name of Optimus's corrupt and conservative predecessor for that reason. Their kind had aided the Decepticons in rising to power precisely because of their fear of the Autobots and their hatred of the Predacons. Now, with the Sentinels of all factions the likely inheritors of political power from Rodimus's coalition, she feared that would happen again.

"I'm going to ask something of you, Blackwind. Something I don't normally ask of anyone."

"Sir?" 

"Would you be willing to hunt Cyclonus down right now? 

"Yes, sir."

"If I sent you out to go right now, and gave you blanket permission to deal with things however you pleased...what would you do? Speak freely."

Blackwind _hated_ it when he said that. Prowl did that to grill people; the unwary spoke honestly and typically got punished for it as though they hadn't just been ordered to do so. He was a _major_ spike sometimes...no, actually, all times. The only good thing about him was his dedication to justice, and even that was easy to forget when you were actually _dealing_ with him.

"I would want Slipstream dead, if it was a choice between her life and someone else's."

Prowl nodded. "And...Cyclonus? The rest of his agents? Would you feel the need to kill them?"

Blackwind resisted the urge to point out that she hadn't technically said anything about killing Slipstream, but knew better than to argue semantics with _Prowl._

"I-" She began, but stopped when she was cut off by the sound of a commotion outside. Her and Prowl both looked out his office window, and saw that Swoop had managed to get himself tangled up in a heap of some datasheets and hapless interns. They were all shouting, confused and irritated with this interruption as the Dinobot kept struggling against a mess of cables he'd somehow gotten tangled up in.

"One of these days you're going to tell me why you're friends with him," Prowl said simply, before adding, "Continue?"

The Peace Marshall had to recenter herself. "Right. I wouldn't let them die if I could take them alive, given their value as prisoners and the fact that a trial _would_ be preferable to killing them. I'd only value the recovery of the Matrix over them."

Prowl nodded. "Logical. I agree, the Matrix is invaluable, even compared to any such prisoners."

He shot a glance back out at Swoop. "Will you be wanting assistance? I'm afraid I already mobilized all my other officers," he cycled deeply, "And as usual your partner remains...uncooperative."

"Depth Charge... I'll shoot him a communique. Tell him I've got a solid lead on Shockwave."

Prowl lifted his optic-plate. "Lie to him? That's unlike you."

"It's not a lie. This plot... something about it _screams_ 'Shockwave' to me. He's involved, somehow. I won't tell him it's a hunch, but all the same…"

"Very well. If you can get him in line, I won't scrutinize your methods too much. Anyone else you could call in?"

Blackwind searched her memory, then smiled. "My old squadmates. They're retired, but...not a bad set of bots."

To her surprise and horror, Prowl smiled and chuckled warmly. "Yes. Those two would be...a solid addition, I think."

She decided not to mention that during the war, he was on worse terms with both of those bots than he was with the average Decepticon.

"And I suppose there's Jetfire." Blackwind muttered, as a scornful afterthought.

"I'd advise it," Prowl replied mildly, "If you think he'll help you, that is. After everything that went down between you two, I'd be pleasantly surprised if he helped."

Primes, he was _such_ a **spike**. 

"If that's all," Prowl continued, ignorant of or unconcerned with her discomfort, "Then I'd advise you to... collect your Dinobot and go."

 _Caught between Swoop and a spike like Prowl_ , Blackwind thought as she left the office, _Sometimes I wonder if this is how Optimus felt on most days._


	4. Carnage in Kaon

The two Autobots set out and headed southward towards Kaon. They flew over swaths of the planet’s surface still scarred from the Great War, and urban centers that had once been filled with bots that were now entirely depopulated, save for fugitives and scavengers. 

Blackwind took the time to send out the messages to the bots she'd discussed with Prowl. Her old war buddies, who were unlikely to be ready anytime soon. Even if they did, they couldn't catch up with their vehicle modes. Depth Charge, monomaniacally focused on his vengeance against Shockwave as always. Finally, there was Jetfire, whom she'd nearly killed in their last meeting. He was the _last_ one she'd expect to answer the call. 

Finally, they saw it, there on the horizon; Kaon, the city of the Decepticons. It was a ruin now, abandoned ever since the final battle of the Great War had left it an Energon-soaked scrapyard, still littered with rusting corpses and rubble. It felt fitting that they were passing under an eerie storm cloud, blocking out the beautiful stars above in favor of a dull and deathly gray. Rain poured down in sheets, and lightning flashed above. That wasn’t a major concern for two Cybertronians, of course, but it was an ill omen all the same. 

“I smell something! Something interesting!” Swoop cried out. His olfactory sensors had always been acute, surprising given his beast mode wasn’t particularly known for it. 

“Really? What’s so interesting about it?”

“It’s Razorclaw! And he’s close!” Swoop sounded practically overjoyed, and that, as usual, made Blackwind _deeply_ nervous. She engaged her radar, now less concerned about stealth, and to her dismay picked something up right behind them. A quick optical scan revealed it to be a small, black aircraft gaining on them, and _fast_. A classic Decepticon air-to-air fighter, with room for a half a dozen bots aboard. That wasn’t good. 

Then it opened fire on them. That was even _less_ good. 

“Swoop! Break off, and speed ahead. I’m going to fall behind and try and shoot him down!”

“Yes! Good, is dishonorable! I love dishonor!” Swoop dove down and spun, one of his favorite tricks to pull when he was trying to be ‘evasive’. It didn’t really _help_ , but at least it didn’t _hurt_ . Blackwind slowed down and let Razorclaw overtake her and fly right past her, focused on his primary prey- then opened fire on his craft. A barrage of lightning flew out of her Electro Blaster, far more potent than any natural storm would’ve brought to bear. Razorclaw’s last mistake, she thought, was disregarding that _she_ was here.

Unfortunately, it really _was_ his last mistake. His craft rocked briefly, probably a slight overload of its capacitors. Decepticons clearly were firm believers in thorough surge protection, since the lightning hadn’t overly damaged the craft. With a slight _thunk_ , a missile rack popped out of the roof and spun around. Three of them fired off and headed right for her, and Blackwind cursed herself for not just _shooting_ the Predacon. She fired off a round now, and it managed to take out one missile- but that left two still hurtling towards her.

She broke off the pursuit of Razorclaw, hoping Swoop would be able to keep the ‘Con off his back, and swung into an evasive pattern. The missiles tailed behind her closely, just barely behind her. With a jerk, she flew straight up, the missiles beginning to lag behind her. At that moment, she transformed back into robot mode. As the missiles headed for her, she aimed her Electro Blaster at them and fired a narrow bolt of electricity. Where the ‘Cons’ ships were resistant to her lightning, their missiles weren’t anywhere near as durable. She blasted them in two quick shots, and like that they exploded a safe distance away. 

Out of the corner of her receptors, she could see that Razorclaw was gaining on Swoop. Cursing quietly, Blackwind changed back to jet mode and rocketed towards them. Before Razorclaw could engage any further defensive measures, she fired off some missiles of her own. As he tried some maneuvers of his own to evade them, she quickly opened up a barrage of laser fire that punctured the side of his craft. The terrifying Predacon warrior broke off from his attack on Swoop, and descended towards Iacon, smoke trailing from one of his craft’s engines. If she had a face in jet form, she would’ve smirked; Razorclaw was one of the deadliest warriors in Cybertron history, but only on the ground. As a pilot, he was passable, but not amazing. 

She radioed Swoop. “Feel like chasing him?”

An eager cackle filled her own radio in turn. “Oh yes! Then we kill him!” From far back, Blackwind watched on in mounting horror as Swoop dove right at the aircraft. Heedless of the dangers to himself and to the mission, he let loose his fire breath at the aircraft. He melted a thick hole in the hull, and the smooth descent quickly turned into a deadly tailspin. Just as Blackwind thought the worst thing that would happen was her quarry dying before he could be interrogated, a swivel turret popped out. Swoop was taken off guard when the blasted thing opened fire on him and filled his left wing full of holes. He screamed in pain so loudly over the wireless so loudly it nearly blew out her audio receptors. 

Thus Blackwind was left with two choices; follow Razorclaw as his ship plummeted towards Kaon, or save the rapidly descending Swoop. She cursed, obviously left with just one option. The Peace Marshall fired off a homing device at Razorclaw's ship and thanked Onyx Prime that it hit, then dove down in robot mode after Swoop. She was easily able to match his velocity, but he was flapping around like mad and flailing so violently it made securing him nearly impossible. After several mid-air slaps from his wing and a few scrapes from his massive metal beak, she managed to grab Swoop securely and brought him down to a secluded and relatively safe looking spot in the ruins below. 

Despite Kaon not being her idea of a particularly _welcoming_ place, Blackwind had to be grateful for one thing; it was such a nightmarish ruin that she could be confident the two of them would be hidden. No Decepticons were likely to still be here, apart from Razorclaw himself and whoever he might be meeting with, and they’d be drawn to his location. 

She flew into an abandoned building complex that had the look of an old Energon refinery to it, and set Swoop down. He wasn’t struggling anymore, but that was probably just because he’d gone into stasis lock. Blackwind cursed quietly; she wasn’t a medic, or even a mechanic. All she knew how to do was identify injuries and stabilize a bot. He didn’t look grievously hurt, but he was losing Energon fast and her equipment didn’t have enough for a patch job right now. She’d either have to haul him out of here, and that would not only kill the mission but also be incredibly risky and dangerous. 

Quietly, she prayed to Onyx Prime, begging for some kind of intervention. She wasn’t the sort to rely on the Primes, but right now she needed all the help she could get. 

Before she could so much as try anything, there was a sound from outside the building. The sound of a Transformation. Blackwind readied her Electro Blaster and cautiously scanned the street beyond the ruined refinery. She quickly found a bot standing a few meters beyond the entrance. To her relief though, it wasn’t a ‘Con signature. It was an Autobot.

“Jetfire.” She said, quietly but loud enough for him to pick it up.

The enormous flyer turned and looked at her, then smiled before carefully stepping in, avoiding a nasty pile of scrap lying on the floor. He was an impressively built bot, such that it was almost a shame he was a scientist instead of a soldier. His red eyes glowed warmly, and for a moment she forgot what bad blood there was between them.“Blackwind. I came as soon as I heard. I also brought... _help_.”

Blackwind tilted her head, but soon found what, or rather _who_ , he was referring to; a white and blue bot she didn’t recognize standing right behind Jetfire. She was grinning eagerly as she peeked around from behind Jetfire, then practically bounced across the room to the downed Swoop. 

“Wow is he in bad shape! Let’s see here….oof, that’s some bad Energon loss. Not to mention all the structural damage…”

“How serious is it, Doctor?” Blackwind was no med, but this sounded serious.

“Oh, he’ll be fine. Your Predacon anatomy is much tougher than ours, it’s all very impressive, actually! Also, my name’s Starcure, though I _am_ also a doctor,” She smiled, then seemed to realize the need to specify, “Uh not the way Jetfire is, I mean I’m a medical doctor. I mean I’m _also_ a scientist, but you know, that’s not very relevant _here_ . Well, not _anymore_ anyway.”

The Peace Marshall blinked, then shook her confusion off. “I understand,” she said, like a liar, “And I’m Blackwind. Jetfire and I fought in the war together.”

The young fem nodded enthusiastically. “He’s said a lot of things about you! Most of them bad, of course, but I won’t hold that against you!”

Blackwind nodded soberly. “That’s fair.”

Jetfire shifted uncomfortably. Then, as if finally remembering that they were in the middle of _Kaon_ , crouched and took cover. “So, what’s the plan, Blackwind?”

“Well,” she said, looking on with apprehension as Starcure got to work repairing Swoop’s damage, “The plan is to find Razorclaw, and surveil him and whoever he’s meeting with. Ideally, we’d want to apprehend them. Failing that, we just want to get what intel we can and report it back to Prowl.”

"Ah," Jetfire said, sounding very unsure, "Well I...I can help. With spying, at least. I'm still not comfortable with violence, Blackwind."

Starcure chuckled and muttered something about someone called 'Lifeline', but she didn't pay it any mind. 

"That's fine. I'm hoping to avoid a fight, Jetfire."

She turned to Starcure. "How's it going? How much longer?"

"Oh a few cycles, at the most. He's _very_ resilient. Just lemme finish welding him up, and then let him rest for a cycle or two."

Blackwind considered it, then agreed. "Better that we all go instead of leaving him here alone either way." 

And so they waited, with Blackwind and Jetfire awkwardly trying not to stare at each other or talk. The only sounds were the sizzling of Starcure's welding torch, Swoop's quiet moans, and the growing sound of rain outside as the night storm overtook Kaon. 

Then, so faint that Blackwind barely heard it, there was another sound outside. She raised her hand, and signaled to the other two to conceal themselves as best as possible. Jetfire, characteristically, took his time recognizing exactly what was being communicated and awkwardly took cover behind some rubble. To Blackwind's surprise, Starcure immediately got what she was saying and surreptitiously slinked behind a nearby column. It wasn't exactly a cyber ninja technique, but it betrayed a degree of real military training that most Autobots had never received.

The noise outside remained barely audible, even as Blackwind could sense it getting closer. Luckily, her gaze far exceeded her hearing; she could see a bot even larger than Jetfire approaching them, weapons drawn. Blackwind knew the bot all too well. 

"Depth Charge," she muttered, glaring up at the bot, "How nice of you to join us."

He turned his face, if you could call it that, back down on her. Depth Charge was a bot with a faceplate rather than a nose and mouth, but where it made Optimus look more of a warrior, it emphasized this Autobot's distance. His two red eyes bore down on her, unmoved.

"Where is he." 

She didn't need to ask who 'he' meant, she knew. "I don't know. If he's anywhere though, Razorclaw is our only lead."

Her partner scoffed. "You're lying. You have no idea where he is. Stop wasting my time." 

As he began to turn around, Blackwind gave into her instincts. She flew up at him, with her stealth jets activated, and slammed into him. He fell to the ground with a grunt, and seemed about to resist before he saw that she had her blade to his chest and her Electro blaster pointed right at him.

"Listen here you walking scrapheap," Blackwind began, uncharacteristically venomous, "You're my _partner_ . You're a Peace Marshall, and you have a _job._ What exactly do you think you're doing, only showing up if it happens to fit into your own one-bot crusade."

Depth Charge glared at her, but he didn't budge. "Fine. After this, I'm done. I'm done with being a part of this pointless system, done with using it to help me along on a job I should've been doing myself from the beginning."

Blackwind got off of him, and sheathed her sword. "Fine," she looked around, "Have it your way."

In the corner, Swoop stirred. "Mmmmm, my way….my way means we smash 'Cons…"

Depth Charge cocked his head quizzically, looking over at the Dinobot. "You brought your old buddy from the Beast Wars?"

"Swoop's the one who told me about the...assassination in the first place." She closed her eyes and cycled air again. She couldn't think too much about Rodimus, or she'd just shut down. His memory would only be served by action. Mourning could come later, _had_ to come later. 

"And you took his word?" At this point her partner sounded utterly incredulous, and Blackwind was again getting fed up. He was saved from her wrath though by an unexpected intervention. 

"Wooooow," Starcure said, curiously looking all over Depth Charge's frame, "Another Triple Changer!"

His stoic demeanor was briefly undermined, as unmistakable astonishment showed on his normally unreadable face. 

"How in the Pit did you know that?!"

"Oh, it's easy. See you've got yourself some kibble here and there," she pointed at some spots on his body where bits of his vehicle modes poked out, "A submarine- a fairly small one, but still military. What on Earth is colloquially called a 'midget submarine', though I've always found that name dubious. It looks like an antique Pirahna-class sub! Got that last time you were on Earth, huh?"

Depth Charge just stared down at the much smaller bot, dumbstruck. "Uh…and I guess you can figure out my other alt mode?"

"Oh, that's easy. You've got the tips of some curved wings, so I'm guessing you turn into a stealth bomber! Very swanky. You like sneaking around, that's a rarity for a bot your size."

Blackwind was duly impressed, and not just at Starcure's knowledge of anatomy. Most Transformers couldn't be afted to care about Earth vehicles, yet here she was noting impressive details about ones that had to be long out of date. This Starcure was definitely more than she'd appeared at first glance. 

She recalled something else that the bot had said earlier, and asked. "And you're a triple Changer?" 

"Yes!" Starcure positively _beamed_ , "I am! I turn into an Ambulance boat and a Sagan-type interstellar transport craft!"

Blackwind had to dog deep into her memory to recall what that was, but when she did she was further amazed by this strange bot. "You...you turn into a flying saucer?"

"Of course, that _is_ the more common word for that kind of ship. It's a design that originated in the USA, at the tail end of NASA's golden age. Hah, the only good thing that state ever produced, NASA. Anyway, Cosmos took it and he always just called it that...but I think that's because he didn't know what it was actually called," she leaned in discretely, "Don't take this the wrong way, but he was always a bit of a space cadet."

On a private channel to Blackwind, Depth Charge muttered. "He's not the only one…"

"So…," Swoop began, butting in, "I do want to know who you all are, but maybe later. Now we should be going to fight! We should fight Razorclaw!"

Blackwind looked around. "Convenient. Five flying Autobots, what're the odds…"

"We should take advantage," she continued, "Move in fast and quiet. Or as quiet as possible."

Jetfire looked apprehensive. "I'm...not exactly _stealthy_ , you know."

"I do," Blackwind said, smiling gently, "And that's why you're on diversion duty. I want you to circle the city and use what armaments you do have for some demolitions. It'll ensure nobody's paying _that_ much attention to us."

She looked to Starcure: "If you'd prefer, you can join in. I understand if you have objections-"

"NO WAY!" Starcure shouted eagerly, "The Hippocratic Oath is reserved for people who AREN'T fascist war criminals. I'm in!"

Blackwind wasn't sure she knew what a Hippocrat _was_ , but nodded as though she understood. "Good then. So, the four of us will approach as stealthily as possible, then...well, stick to surveillance. If I decide otherwise? I'll give a signal."

She outlined the relative positions; as usual, she'd take point. Depth Charge would swing around another flank to get an expanded angle for observation and improve the effectiveness of an ambush if it was called for. Finally, Swoop and Starcure would stick near Blackwind in reserve. Once the plan was set, they split up. The stealth team launched under the cover of Jetfire's roaring launch, and quietly approached the area Razorclaw's homing signal was being transmitted from. 

Blackwind was less than enthused when she learned where it was; Kaon's abandoned spaceport. It was _very_ unlikely that it had been a choice of convenience. More likely than not, Cyclonus and his cabal were planning to make their escape off Cybertron from here. Things got even more troubling when she noticed a small brigade of Vehicons around the complex. Vehicons were Decepticon war drones, literally Sparkless automata with limited sapience used as expendable cannon fodder in the old Decepticon Army. It wasn't terribly likely (Especially given how clean and well-maintained they were) that they had just been guarding this spot for the past 200 years. Cyclonus himself _had_ to be here. If this wasn't his base, then it was at least where he'd parked his command ship- whatever it was. 

Fortunately, it wasn't the fortress it had been during the Great War. Furthermore, the Vehicons were ill-equipped to spot her or Depth Charge; their alt modes may have been outdated on Earth, but the fact they were stealth planes was more than enough for Cybertronian physiology to make them practically invisible. As for Starcure and Swoop, neither of their alt modes relied on particularly audible forms of propulsion. Above the cloud layer, they were invisible. That suited Blackwind just fine, since it'd keep them nicely out of harm's way in case things went south.

As she (And presumably Depth Charge) crossed over the rim of the arena-shaped Starport, she beheld something that made her Spark briefly flare with terror. It was a massive, grey-and-red colored thing, rounded and sharp in places in the vague shape of a bird of prey. Across its surface there were patches of pitted rusted plates, most clustered in a few largely-unimportant areas. All around the ship a team of drones were busily tearing down scaffolding. At its back was a Transwarp drive, which stood out as a recent refit. Presumably, it had been the primary addition when they refit this ship, because she _recognized_ it.

_Who in their right mind would go to this much trouble to refurbish Gigatron’s old flagship? And a Transwarp drive?! That beast has to be at least 15 million years old at this point! I'm not sure it could even handle the strain!_

The _Ravager,_ as it was called, was an enormous craft. Somewhat less impressive than it had been back during the days of the Beast Wars, but still large by the standards of even modern starships. She’d remembered seeing it for the first time, glistening black against the light of Cybertron’s sun. Swooping down like some massive predatory bird upon unsuspecting Autobot forces...while she and her fellow Predacons mopped up any escaping survivors. The _glee_ she took in blasting them apart, occasionally diving down and gripping one of the smaller ones in her talons and dropping them to their death from a great height.

Blackwind pushed back the gruesome thoughts, the lingering guilt. She couldn’t give in, not right now. There was a job to do, and the fact the _Ravager_ was Cyclonus’s ship just made it that much more important that she do it. She scanned below, looking for Razorclaw.

She found him standing near the _Ravager_ ’s entry ramp, which had been lowered. A few other bots she didn’t recognize were there talking to him. One was a large red-colored Decepticon, another was a black, purple, and gold Decepticon of Predacon-type. Standing behind both of them was a bot she _did_ recognize, though; Sky-Byte. A towering, powerful Predacon who had managed to survive since the Beast Wars. Unlike the other Predacon-types there, he bore no Decepticon insignia and clearly had not been Reformatted into one. 

Blackwind transformed, and perched herself high above the ‘Cons. Listening in from this range was somewhat difficult, but not impossible. With some signal boosting, she was able to pick up the audio enough to make some of it out. 

The first one she heard was, naturally, Sky-Byte. His deep, loud voice was the easiest to pick up.

“...still say we should take care of Swoop. Little traitor, he’s probably gone and blabbed it all to that justicar friend of his.”

The red-armored Decepticon spoke up, and her contralto voice was barely audible, and kept cutting in and out. “Him and Prowl...friends. Always hated each other...likely he got...Wind to help him, by herself.”

Razorclaw cut in, and folded his arms. “She’s busy trying to save him, we have time to finish preparing. It should only be a few more Cycles. My regret is that I lack the time to go and finish the job.”

The purple ‘Con seemed to speak, but was inaudible to Blackwind even with her booster maximized. Her voice was too quiet, too high, or both. Razorclaw seemed offended, but Sky-Byte laughed.

“Good for you, Blackarachnia! You’ve got bearings to insult Razorclaw like that, I like you! We’re going to have fun together on Earth!” He seemed delighted by whatever she’d said, but Blackwind got the feeling it wasn’t the sort of thing most sensible bots would say to the most dangerous Predacon online.

Through their closed channel, Blackwind contacted Depth Charge. “So, it’s Earth they’re heading for.”

“Why is _that_ not a surprise.” Depth Charge replied, his tone dry. Blackwind had to agree; the Decepticons had been on Earth so long it was almost as much a second home for them as it was for the Autobots. They’d surely left countless things behind any ‘Cons would want to pick up. With the Transwarp drive, they could be there in minutes- though it seemed like they were still waiting on something before they left.

Regardless, Razorclaw brushed it aside. He turned to the red bot. "Shatter, how much longer will Slipstream be?"

Blackwind felt her body tense up at the mention of Rodimus's murderer.

The red bot- Shatter, Blackwind supposed- shrugged. "How should I know?"

"Oh come on, you're her _mate_ for Prima's sake. How can you not know how long she's going to take?"

Depth Charge's voice buzzed into her mind over the radio. "Never knew Slipstream was attached. Surprising, coming from her."

Blackwind had to agree. "It's a shock that she'd care that much about anyone but herself."

There was the sound of something from inside the ship. Heavy footfalls...and a familiar bot strode out off the ramp. He was tall, dark purple. His right hand had been replaced by a focused laser cannon. His face, barely visible from here, had a single eye.

" _He's here!"_ Depth Charge hissed over the radio at his partner. "We have to take him out, _now!_ I'm not letting him get away again!"

"We'll fail, and die. Pointlessly. They've got us outnumbered, even with our backup."

"We're flyers," Depth Charge reminded her, "I can tell you that none of these animal 'Cons are, and I know for a fact that Shockwave would never give up his alt mode."

She had to admit, he had a point. The _Ravager_ was clearly not quite ready for flight, and the bots before them, though dangerous, would be demolished by an outside assault. 

The other bots all turned to look at Shockwave as he approached. The one called Blackarachnia said something to him, and Shockwave seemed to nod.

"Soon," he began, "We're picking up a disturbance in the perimeter. Slipstream and what flying Vehicons we can spare are investigating it."

"Jetfire!" Blackwind quickly called out over her link with Depth Charge, "He won't stand a chance against Slipstream!"

"Then we move now," Depth Charge replied coolly, "We take them now, we might be able to draw her back here from your friend."

The Peace Marshall wanted to scream at her partner... but, irritatingly, he was right. It was their best option, at least as far as ways to get out of here without casualties. It also did fit within Prowl's directives, if only narrowly. She could capture the 'Cons, here and now, and make sure they didn't escape justice and get away with whatever they were trying to accomplish with this scheme.

She sent out the narrow-band pulse that let Swoop and Starcure know that now was the time to close in. That done, she sent the frequency that told Depth Charge to try for their favored attack strategy; her up front drawing attention while spotting for him, him closing in behind quietly and dropping bombs from a distance.

With that, the Autobot transformed and rose up. She could briefly hear the 'Cons shocked exclamations as they saw her approach before shutting off her listening device and fired one of her missiles at Razorclaw.

The missile only narrowly missed the mark, thanks to the Decepticon's astonishing agility, but still caught him and Blackarachnia in its blast radius. She swooped in for a strafe, blasting crimson lasers at the gathered 'cons. They scattered, only Sky-Byte even attempting to return fire (and missing by a megamile). She swung around for another run, though it was painful forcing herself to do such a tight turn at these speeds. 

When she swung back around though, the Autobot found a nasty surprise. Shockwave stoically staring at her, before transforming. Not into the Cybertronian Artillery piece he normally used as an alt mode, but into a Cybertronian _helicopter_. It was astonishingly fast for such a craft, and she soon found herself ducking and rolling to avoid the storm of violet blaster fire in her direction.

As she sped past him, there was the relief from a familiar whooping battle cry. A metal beast with a massive beak descended from above, and slashed it's razor sharp wingblade through Shockwave's flank.

"Time to slaughter cons! Now is fight time, yay fight time!" Swoop shouted out for all to hear, eager and jubilant as he unleashed a storm of fire on the grounded Decepticons.

Accompanying the Dinobot was a very odd craft Blackwind still had trouble imagining as something _Humans_ would build; it was rounded like a discus, and bore a blue cross on it's top with a blue ring around it. It was smooth and largely featureless... save for the bevy of bomb-dropping slots on its underside, and two blaster ports that Blackwind recognized as an Earth-made kind of laser cannon.

"Deploying plasma bombs!" Starcure eagerly informed the Peace Marshall, before raining down blue spheres that exploded into domes of blue energy all around the Decepticons on the ground. The force of it singed and blew back the 'Cons, though it didn't seem that they were dealing a lot of _damage_ exactly. It then became clear to Blackwind that she wasn't aiming for the 'Cons; Starcure was aiming for the _Ravager_ 's entry ramp, to ensure they didn't flee inside. Again, this bot was showing some surprising tactical chops.

Soon, a familiar B-2 Bomber flew onto the scene, and carnage erupted as the payload that Depth Charge dropped added to the explosive cacophony. Sky-Byte was hit directly by one, and though Blackwind could tell he hadn't been killed, the Predacon was still grievously injured.

The Autobot Peace Marshall recognized that she couldn't exactly contribute much now if she remained in her SR-71 form, and converted to robot mode. Still in flight, she spun around and blasted at Shockwave, who responded by unveiling an underslung blaster cannon matching the one in his robot mode. He let loose a massive burst of violet energy. 

Blackwind dodged it easily, but quickly realized a new peril; Depth Charge, who had previously been keeping the grounded Decepticons pinned down, clearly recognized his long-sought quarry's signature attack. Despite being in a mode not in the least suited to dogfighting, the Autobot charged at his foe.

Shockwave, characteristically, evinced no signs of surprise or panic. He simply spun around and let loose another burst from his miniguns. They hit home, and Blackwind could hear her partner roar in pain and rage as he was riddled with holes. No longer able to keep himself airborne, he plummeted to the ground. To add to the general misfortune, he landed right next to the Decepticons. 

Blackwind cursed. "Swoop, hold off Shockwave! I'm going down there to get Depth Charge to safety! Starcure, keep containing them." 

The Dinobot briefly shouted out a confused bark, but then noticed the purple helicopter and seemed to finally put two and two together. He hooted and hollered as he flew up to Shockwave and landed, bat-style, on the copter's undercarriage. With glee, he began stabbing the Decepticon repeatedly with his massive beak, drawing a torrent of Energon, oil, and mech fluid. It all mixed together with the pouring rain, which washed it away as quickly as it came out.

With him distracted, Blackwind dove down near his side and brandished her sword. The Decepticon called Blackarachnia stood nearby, and hissed at her. The Predacon-type was clearly damaged from the missile strike before, but was still rearing to go. She swung her four spider-like limbs around and oriented them towards Blackwind. A burst of machine gun fire erupted from the appendages, but it all just bounced off Blackwind's armor. This was _not_ a bot suited to combat. The Autobot blasted a jolt of electricity from her arm-mounted cannon, and that left the Decepticon sprawled out on the ground. A quick survey of the area showed Razorclaw helping the badly injured Sky-Byte up to the relative shelter beneath one of the _Ravager_ 's wings. 

Just as she was about to check up on the badly injured Depth Charge, Blackwind was blasted by a powerful burst of kinetic energy. She recovered quickly, though she could feel that she'd been hit hard and would need repairs in a major way after this fight. The blast had clearly come from a red tank of an unusual make and model, which bore the emblem of a hissing cobra on its front. 

The tank shifted, and Shatter stood with a sword of her own and stared Blackwind down. The Decepticon's red eyes bore into her, and somehow Blackwind got the feeling she'd _met_ this stranger before. 

"Been a while, Autobot," the Decepticon said casually, as if she was catching up with an old friend, "I don't suppose you recognize me?"

"I feel I'd recognize a bot like you," Blackwind said, confused, "Did you get a redeco? Maybe a full on retool?"

Shatter let out a sinister chuckle. "Something like that…"

Without warning, she leapt at Blackwind, who was unable to move out of the way in time. She drew up her sword, and barely blocked Shatter's mighty blow. The Autobot stumbled backwards, and Shatter took advantage by firing off another blast of energy from her hip mounted tank cannon. It struck Blackwind dead in the chest, and she had to forcefully override her body's attempt to send her into stasis lock.

"You're not as tough as I thought you'd be, Autobot," Shatter said, her voice like ice as she slammed her knee up into Blackwind's chest, "Hot Rod always spoke so highly of you."

The cruel words stirred something primal and raw, deep within Blackwind. All the grief and rage she'd been burying all day suddenly burst forward in a single torrent. She felt her talons release themselves in her fingers, and all at once she _snapped._

With a roar loud enough to shake the entire starport, Blackwind raised herself up and threw Shatter off of her. Crackling with crimson lightning, she lunged at the Decepticon. Like a diving raptor, she dug her claws into Shatter and lifted her up into the air. With a scream, she loosed a current of electricity into the Decepticon's body and threw her back down to the ground. Even as the Decepticon weakly tried to stand back up, Blackwind pounced onto her and began viciously tearing at her chassis with her once again clawed servos, tearing apart her armor and badly damaging her internals even as her prey screamed in pain and terror. 

Around her, the battle was also turning towards the Autobots' advantage. Razorclaw and Sky-Byte remained trapped in their little cover by Starcure's enthusiastic bombardment, the latter Predacon having fallen into stasis lock from his damage. Swoop had forced the similarly badly damaged Shockwave to the ground, and was blasting at him with fire breath as Shockwave vainly tried to hit the Dinobot. 

Shatter was still active, but barely. She looked up at Blackwind, plainly unable to speak. With contempt, she spat out a slurry of mech fluid and energon at the Autobot. Such rage had overtaken Blackwind that she contemplated ending the miserable Decepticon here and now. She drew up her clawed servo, and prepared for a killing strike.

Her wrath was stayed by the dreadful herald of a familiar foe. A numbing screech filled the air, and she turned her head to see a sight she'd sought and dreaded at once. 

The unmistakable sound of a Seeker.

Blackwind beheld a violet bot with teal striping, kept aloft by roaring teal-colored jets of flame erupting from her feet. She glared down contemptuously at the Autobots with cold teal eyes, her face cool with malice.

It was a face that Blackwind had seen so many times. A face that she’d been hoping to see all day, but not like this. She wanted vengeance, but there were two things that kept her from moving a servo.  
Over her shoulders, she had slung two massive, familiar cannons. The Null Laser Cannons. Starscream’s ultimate weapon, that he had used to devastate the Autobots at the Battle of Autobot City, capable of easily leveling a city block. Defeating him while he had those active had been a small miracle. How Slipstream had gotten them was a mystery, but one not worth trying to solve right now.   
The other reason that Blackwind did not act against Rodimus’s killer was the hostage Slipstream held in her right arm; Jetfire, limp and clearly in stasis lock. He had been very badly damaged, with bits of his white armor scorched black or melted off altogether. Rain sputtered and fizzled as it hit his armor; he was still boiling hot from whatever attack Slipstream had inflicted upon him.

"Get your filthy claws off my mate, you ugly beast," Slipstream snarled, her face a picture of murderous intent, "Or your little friend here is _dead_." 

All her rage and grief melted away, and Blackwind slunk back from Shatter. She raised her hands, and forcibly withdrew her talons back into her servos. It pained her to do that, but she wasn't going to let them out again. 

"Better. Now, tell that... _thing_ ," she said, gesturing at Starcure, "To end her bombing. Then, my troops, my mate, and I will board our ship and fly away from here. You've interrupted us, and we won't be further delayed."

Blackwind looked around. Swoop was giving her a _pleading_ look that screamed 'Come on, it's _Jetfire_ , you _hate_ him!'. There was a practical point, too; Jetfire really wasn't a terribly valuable hostage, and here they were with a chance to likely end it all before whatever Cyclonus had planned could begin. Ruthless calculus suggested it was the right call...but Blackwind wasn't that ruthless. Nowhere _near_ that ruthless. She had said earlier to her fellow bots she couldn't let them die, and that applied as much to Jetfire as anyone else.

She looked up at Starcure. "You heard her, Starcure. Let them go."

The saucer stopped its bombardment immediately, and Starcure transformed to robot mode and came down gracefully in a three-point landing. She nodded at Blackwind, and she felt a warm sense of validation. It was good to know that someone on her team felt she'd made the right call.

Slipstream lowered herself and set the stasis locked Jetfire down with surprising gentleness. She bade Razorclaw drag Sky-Byte onto the ship, then shot a glance at the injured Shockwave that spoke volumes of some underlying enmity. The scientist limped up the ship's ramp, then turned around to face Slipstream.

"Cyclonus has yet to arrive."

"Don’t worry about him, he already made his way to our destination. Says he’s ‘scouting ahead’."

With a nod, Shockwave walked away and disappeared into the dark interior.

The Seeker walked over to Shatter, still barely online. Slipstream carefully lifted the other Decepticon in a conjunxial carry, and spoke soothingly to her too quietly for Blackwind to hear. She wordlessly trod up the _Ravager'_ s entry ramp, before turning around to look at Blackwind once more. 

"This is _far_ from over, Autobot , " Slipstream declared, her teal eyes faintly radiating some kind of plasma, "You'll pay for what you've done to her...and to _him._ "

She had no idea what that was about, and was too exhausted to ask. The Decepticon carried her mate onto the ship's ramp, which closed up behind them even as she boarded. The ancient Predacon warship creaked as its engines fired up and it lifted off the ground, before rocketing away into the night sky. 

With that, Blackwind felt the fight go out of her. All the rage and power that had kept her going melted away, and the Autobot collapsed to the ground in a heap. Her optics shut off, and she went into stasis lock. 


	5. The Things One Leaves Behind

Blackwind blinked open her optics. It had finally stopped raining, thank Onyx, and she was looking up at the welcoming sight of a starry sky. It was something she'd long missed, living in a light polluted nightmare like Iacon. The breadth of the Galaxy was visible from this dark ruin, and it brought her some quiet comfort. 

"You're finally awake!" A chipper voice called out. Blackwind looked up weakly to see that Starcure was standing over her. Upon further inspection, Blackwind saw that she was laid out on an ad hoc berth along with the other Autobots, all of whom were inactive.

"The others have slipped into stasis lock," Starcure said, sadly, "But I think you'll make a faster recovery. You're remarkably hardy, you know."

She laid a comforting hand on Blackwind's shoulder, and the Peace Marshall smiled warmly at this strange and wondrous bot. 

"Thank you, Starcure. You're...very kind How is everyone doing?"

The medic frowned. "I'm afraid they sustained some very serious injuries. I did the best I could with my usual kit, but I think all of the others are going to need some time in a CR chamber."

Blackwind frowned. "How badly damaged are they?"

"Depth Charge and Jetfire are both too damaged to move under their own power for now. I'd normally try and transport them out of here myself, but I don't think it'd be wise to try that right now."

Blackwind took stock of her surroundings, and began to understand. They were still in  _ Kaon _ , a blasted-out ruin filled with hostile Vehicons. They had no way of getting out of here, not in their current conditions.

"I activated my distress beacon, of course," Starcure continued, "But I doubt we'll be getting anything anytime soon. It's a rather short range beacon. I hadn't thought to bring my planetary one, it's very bulky."

"Don't blame yourself, Starcure," Blackwind said, comforting the other bot, "You couldn't have expected-"

She was cut off by the sound of happy shouts and the sound of something being smashed. The two bots turned their head, and Starcure laughed.

"Oh, that's Swoop, he's keeping the Vehicons out of here."

Blackwind frowned. "How long has he been out there? By himself?"

"About ten cycles," Starcure answered, "And I'm not confident he can hold out that much longer…"

As if to punctuate her statement, the entrance gate to the Starport exploded. In burst a dozen or so Vehicons, slick and darkly painted. They fixed their visor-optics on the damaged Autobots, and raised their weapons.

Before they could fire, though, Swoop swept in. The Dinobot strafed them all with his firey breath, melting most of them down. Being bodies without sparks, they were far less durable than actual bots, and the former Predacon was obliterating them wholesale. Yet there were hundreds more, and they were swarming this position...it wouldn't be long before even Swoop was overwhelmed.

Just as Blackwind was prepared to stand, thinking it better to fight and die than to run, the sound of roaring tires cut in from the other side of the gate. A pair of brilliant yellow headlights cut through the night gloom, and a massive pink semi truck plowed through the horde of drones, sending most of them flying and crushing unders its wheels.

Blackwind beamed, even as Starcure repeatedly shouted "What?!" in obvious confusion. The semi truck pulled up in front of the two of them, and Swoop happily hopped down from the roof of the cab.

"Who-" Starcure began, before being interrupted by the ubiquitous sound of a Cybertronian changing modes. 

The truck changed, reshaping into a pink and white bot standing about a head shorter than Blackwind. She was somewhat stocky in build, with broad, powerful shoulders. Her legs were strong and thick, with a pair of blasters attached to each. Her face had been smooth and fine featured once, when Blackwind first met her. Now it was frankly even more attractive, with battle scarring and various other signs of a bot that had lived a hard life. She still had those odd swirls on the sides of her head, too. One day Blackwind would have to ask her what  _ those  _ were about.

"It's good to see you, Arcee." 

The weathered bot smiled at her, and put her hands on her hips. "A fine mess you've gotten yourself into, bird-brain."

Blackwind chuckled, bowing a bit for effect. "Where would I ever be without you to rescue me?" 

"Dead," Arcee replied bluntly, a cocky smirk on her face, "Scrap in a back alley in Iacon."

"I don't mean to interrupt this  _ lovely  _ banter," Starcure began, interrupting their banter, "But there  _ are  _ still a thousand or so Vehicons out there, yes?"

Arcee turned around, as if she was only just now aware of the horde of encroaching drones. "Ah. Yeah. Don't worry, our ride should be here any cycle now…"

As if on cue, a dark shape peeked out from the edge of the starport. Blackwind looked on in amazement as a ship she  _ never  _ thought to see again approached. It was a graceful, if simple design; a long hull shaped like an obelisk with a slight downward curve, a squat prism of a bridge, and a pair of pylons on the sides that housed the pilot engines as well as many of the ship’s guns.

It was Orion Pax’s first flagship, and subsequently the original headquarters of the new Autobot rebellion. It was the  _ Avalon. _

The enormous ship lowered down into the spot the  _ Ravager  _ had been in not too long ago. Though she’d never considered it before, Blackwind noticed here that the  _ Avalon  _ was about the same size as the Predacon ship. It seemed odd to her, as she’d always remembered the  _ Ravager _ being truly massive, unlike the  _ Avalon _ , which had always felt cozy and compact whenever she was aboard. Must've been down to her different sizes in those eras. Primes knew she was barely bigger than a Minicon when she served aboard the  _ Ravager _ . 

The boarding ramp opened, and another familiar face stepped out. The bot in question had his familiar white paint job broken up by red and blue stripes along one side. He was a bit larger than she remembered, but still smaller than Blackwind or even Arcee. He leaned casually against the ramp's frame and studied her and the others.

"Well you bots look like scrap." Jazz said coolly, like he  _ wasn't  _ in the middle of a ruined Decepticon stronghold being overtaken by Vehicons.

"We'll catch up later, Jazz," Blackwind began, "But first maybe we should scat?"

Jazz chuckled. "That's the plan, cat. Hop on in, we'll talk when we're out of this 'Con hive."

They set to getting their injured colleagues up into the ship. Blackwind and Jazz grabbed the unconscious Jetfire, and Starcure helped Swoop in carrying the enormous Depth Charge up the ramp. Arcee, meanwhile, held off the Vehicons. She was carrying an impressive minigun, that was new. It was wreaking a Hell of its own through the Vehicon ranks and shredding them to pieces. 

Nevertheless, there were too many for her to hold them off forever. Once the unconscious bots were aboard, Arcee hurried up the ramp and it was closed up. While Arcee and Swoop helped Starcure carry her patients to the repair bay, Jazz led Blackwind to the  _ Avalon _ 's cockpit. 

"Been quite a while, hasn't it? At least 100 stellar cycles."

"Funny," replied Blackwind, looking over the old familiar control console. "That doesn't seem like 'quite a while' to me."

"Yeah well," Jazz began, flipping the ignition switches and casually activating Custodian, the ship's AI, "You always were a slow ager. Figures a century would go by like that for you." He punctuated it with one of his signature servo snaps. 

Blackwind nodded, looking over the various meters noting the  _ Avalon' _ s progress in passing through its ignition sequence, and marking shield strength. Good, they were holding. She briefly flashed back darkly to the ambush from the  _ Nemesis  _ that nearly killed them all, almost two and a half centuries ago. Then, the shields just hadn't been good enough. Now though, against a pathetic horde of drones, they didn't have a ghost of a chance. At least, not anytime  _ soon. _

Soon enough the lights indicated she was ready to take off. With a comfortable smile, Blackwind gripped the controls and steered the  _ Avalon  _ up into the air. She casually broke atmosphere and put them in a parking orbit for the time being, then turned to Jazz

"So how did you get a hold of this old girl?"

Jazz laughed. "Well it wasn't hard; Arcee bought her off Daytrader. After the Militia got disbanded-"

She cut him off. "It never technically  _ did  _ get disbanded. Or even de facto disbanded. The Autobot Militia still exists, it's just...now it's less important than it used to be."

"Right," Jazz replied, "A good ol' fraternity of Great War vets who don't have anything better to do. That's us."

He looked her over, then frowned. "Well, it's most of us. Why  _ did  _ you keep your old commission, anyway? You never seemed too happy back in those days."

"Oh," Blackwind shot back, in a voice tinged with sarcasm, "That's just next to you, Jazz."

"I won't deny my perennial optimism and sunny disposition," Jazz conceded, "But that ain't what I mean and you know it."

The larger Autobot looked away from her co-pilot. “You’re right. I just don’t feel like talking about it right now.”

“Fair enough. I won’t pry.” He went back to the controls, and for a cycle or two they sat in companionable silence. Eventually though, Jazz broke the awkward silence.

“So uh...where’re we going?”

She pondered the question. “I’m going to shoot Prowl a message, see if he replies. We should be able to rendezvous with him and let him know that the Decepticons are heading to Earth."

"Earth, huh? So this time they're gonna be giving  _ us  _ the welcome, looks like. How'd they get there so fast? Got a plan for how we get there?"

"First off they've got a Transwarp drive. Meaning they could be there already. I've got a plan for how we can get there, a Space Bridge we might be able to use, but...”

“Oh really? Which one would that-”

His question was interrupted by a beep on the control console. After a moment, Blackwind recognized it as the long range communicator. With some apprehension, she flipped it on.

As expected, it was Prowl. He didn't look happy, which was even more expected.

“Peace Marshall, I’ve received your report. This is troubling. Can you clarify why you felt the need to engage?”

She nodded, and steeled herself. “I believed the odds were in our favor, and that it stood a realistic and strong chance of allowing us to capture the suspects.”

Prowl seemed to consider that for a moment. “Did you manage to acquire any useful information?”

Blackwind grimaced at that, given how little they’d really been able to get. “We confirmed they are using the  _ Ravager _ , and that they are heading to Earth at Transwarp speeds. Slipstream indicated to her fellows that he is already there.”

“You trust this information?” 

“Yes. It was shared in confidence, while we were observing them remotely.”

“Then...proceed with pursuit.”

“I...sir?” She was perplexed. Was she missing something here?

“Unrelatedly,” Prowl continued, something odd showing through on his face, “There is a message I think you’d like to see.”

The holo image of Prowl instantly changed to one of a collection of bots. None of them were familiar to Blackwind, but all bore the familiar mark of the Cybertrons. They were the ‘original’ faction of vehicular Transformers that the Autobots and Decepticons had both begun as splinter factions of. Over the course of the Great War, most had joined one side or another- but the largest single faction remained Cybetrons, who had remained ‘neutral’ throughout the war. Of course, since  _ actual  _ neutrality had been a non-option under Decepticon rule, the majority were collaborators. Only the sheer impracticality of actually trying all of them prevented the Autobots from punishing the many who had aided the Decepticons without outright joining them. Most of the Sentinels were Cybertrons, and she had a feeling these bots were Sentinels as well.

“These three, Oceancutter, Skypiercer, and Landshaker," Prowl began, grim-faced, "Are the heads of the Navies, Space Fighter Force, and the Army. They're forming a provisional government and have declared a state of emergency."

Blackwind lost it. "WHAT?!? They're forming a military junta?! Rodimus hasn't been dead for a solar cycle and they're already forming a military junta?!"

"It's not just because Rodimus is dead, Blackwind. The remaining Senators all voted to pass this motion."

"The remaining Senators... meaning the other Sentinels?"

Prowl nodded. "Yes. None of them were present at the bombing, so they are now the entirety of the Senate."

"There's emergency elections for this! They can't vote on any motions until they've elected replacements!" She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"The issue is-" Prowl began, but then was cut off in a blast of static. The ship rocked as the inertial dampening briefly gave out, and alarms blared. Blackwind saw that the control panel had switched to alert status. Damage warnings and proximity sensors made it clear what had happened.

They were under attack. A quick optical scan showed that the attack had come from three Transformers on or circling the ship. One was in beast mode, in the form of a giant mechanical bat. They were blasting the hull with kinetic eye blasts, a near universal power for Predacons. Another was in robot mode, with a pair of vaguely avian wings behind them as they slashed out bursts of force from their blades. The third and final one was in beast mode, a wolf chewing at the  _ Avalon _ 's hull. It was clear that one had just bit into the communications array and knocked it offline, which is what had disrupted the transmission with Prowl.

"Where did they come from?!" Blackwind asked, bewildered at this kind of attack happening  _ here  _ of all places.

"Probably from that ship over there." Jazz said coolly, pointing to a small ship in a parking orbit nearby. 

"Oh, yeah. That'd do it." 

"So, Blackwind," Jazz asked, leaning back in his chair, "What're we gonna do about 'em?"

"Find out what they want," Blackwind began as she got up, "After getting them to stop smashing up Optimus's ship."

She pressed a button, switching Custodian to alert mode. Immediately, the security system sprang into action. Each of the three Predacons was taken by surprise as one of the ship's concealed tangler guns blasted each of them in turn. The adhesive and durable materials bound them up and sent them into stasis lock, then robotic arms extended from the ship and drew each of them into holes in the hull. They were, she knew, being taken to the ship's holding cells.

"Alright then," Blackwind muttered enigmatically, "That confirms it."

"Confirms what?" Jazz asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"That Arcee really did fix the defensive systems like I'd hoped," Blackwind replied, "I'd had my doubts that anything on this old bird would work after the pounding she went through the last time I was on board."

"Aww you really ought to have more faith in me." A sultry voice murmured from right behind the Peace Marshall.

Blackwind spun around, and saw Arcee standing there with a hand on her hip. She was a bit greasy, with flecks of Energon and mech fluid here and there.

"Is all that... yours?" Blackwind asked, motioning to all of Arcee below the neck.

Arcee looked briefly confused, then followed where the other Autobot was pointing and grinned. "Oh, this? Nah, it's all from those Vehicons I smashed up earlier," her smile faded though, as she added, "Or from your friends down in the repair bay."

"How are they?" 

"That cute little medic you brought in knows her stuff. I've never seen such quick repairs that didn't make the problem  _ worse _ , but there you go. She says that Jetfire will need extended time in the CR Chamber, but the others will be fine to move around in less than a solar cycle."

"Good...good," she frowned, then shook the lingering guilt off, "We need to interrogate our prisoners now, and see what they want."

"I'd been wondering why Custodian was suddenly acting up...glad he works right, again. Mind if I tag along?"

Blackwind narrowed her optics. "They're not going to be mistreated in any way, Arcee."

The pink and white bot raised her hands defensively. "What? I'm not gonna do anything. Just stand around and look tough, you know?"

The Peace Marshall just shook her head. "Fine, come on. Jazz, you ok staying here?"

The short bot did a salute. "Yes, ma'am! I'll be on alert in case any other random preds attack us."

The two femmes walked side by side through the  _ Avalon _ . As they passed by the medbay, Blackwind wondered if she should go inside to check on the others. She decided against it, noting that the interrogation had to take priority. 

"The ship is so  _ different  _ from how I remember." Blackwind noted in astonishment as she took in all the little alterations to the interior.

The pink femme grinned. "Yeah...I did a lot of work on her. To be honest, most of the goodies are Wheeljack's work."

Blackwind nodded soberly. "I miss the old nutcase. We lost too many good bots that day at Autobot City…"

Arcee grimaced. "You don't need to remind me. Can I change the subject?"

Blackwind nodded. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

"Are you hoping to chase after Cyclonus and his goons? I heard about what Slipstream did to Rodimus, and I know you two were always close…"

"He was like the little brother I nevee had," the taller bot agreed, "And she murdered him. Stabbed him in the back, while mocking him."

"Right. Wasn't trying to get  _ more  _ morbid there. I was just asking  _ how  _ you planned to go after them."

"Ah. Well, does the  _ Avalon  _ have a Transwarp Cell?" It was a long shot, and unlikely Jazz could've failed to mention it sooner. 

Arcee shook her head. "No. I had bigger priorities than making her capable of interstellar travel without a space bridge. Why is that important, though?"

"Because the  _ Ravager  _ is headed to Earth."

"Ouch. Yeah, not a lot of ways to get  _ there  _ by Space Bridge...at least not any  _ legal  _ space bridge."

Blackwind picked up on the emphasis. "Do you know of an  _ illegal  _ one then that might get us there?"

Arcee smirked. "I might. We'll see if it's necessary, though. This old bird's a good reliable ship- and I've given her some pretty damned good weapons if I say so myself- but if you're chasing down the  _ Ravager  _ I'd think you'd want something more...robust."

"True enough," Blackwind said as they approached the holding cells, before pressing a button to unlock the rooms, "We'll see how this goes…"

The holding cells were sparser than she remembered, clearly being rebuilt at a lower priority than other things. It was obvious that Arcee hadn't expected much need of these.

The three Predacons were still tied up and in stasis lock, each suspended behind a different force cage and set of metal bars. The force cage was obviously enough on its own, but the bars were a backup defense in case of power failure. It had boggled Blackwind's mind that so many bots didn't think to have such an obvious precaution against a common issue. Did it offend them to have such a practical and low tech solution in place?

"Want me to wake them up?" Arcee asked as she headed over to a control panel.

"Yes," Blackwind replied, eyeing the bat who was in the center cage, "I'd rather not do a core consciousness connection if we can just do this like civilized bots." 

Arcee flicked a switch and brought the bots online. Their optics flickered open, and they all started shouting and looking around.

When they'd settled a bit, Blackwind spoke.

"I am Blackwind Major," she said, begrudgingly sharing her full title, "I am a Peace Marshall duly appointed by Rodimus Prime and approved of by the Senates and Courts of the Republic of Prima. Why have you attacked my vessel?"

The Bat narrowed their optics. "You even talk like a Cybertron. They've made you their  _ pet _ ."

Immediately, Blackwind felt rage boiling within her. "Please don't try my patience. Tell me your name and what you're doing here."

The bat hissed and growled, but eventually spoke. "My name is Darkmoon. I am leader of my clan and my pack, and these are my packmates."

He motioned to the other two bots. "The other flyer is named Cloudscar. The wolf is named Wolfang. We are the Grey Pack, of Clan Shalebreak."

Blackwind nodded. "I've heard of you, Darkmoon. You are young, but you've earned some respect over the Stellar Cycles. Why did you attack my ship?"

Darkmoon hissed. "Why do you need to know? Why should I  _ tell  _ a traitor like you, who abandoned our kind ages ago? They tell tales of you, on the far-flung 'colonies' your Cybertron friends forced us onto! That your Autobot allies have only begrudgingly allowed us to leave, so as to return to our homeworld! Even now, we are pursued as we simply attempt to escape before your 'Sentinels' can persecute us as they did in the days of their so-called great hero, Sentinel Prime!"

"Wait...hold on a moment. You're being pursued? By whom?"

"By a ship of the Cybertron Space Guard! They approach us even now, with agents of the Elite Guard in command!"

Blackwind turned to Arcee, whose expression of concern mirrored her own. "Get out there, and repair the comm array if you can. Get in touch with Prowl about this. Tell Jazz he needs to pull their ship in before some shipful of strutlickers snatches it."

Arcee nodded, and headed off. For her part, Blackwind sat down on a bench next to the cells. For a time there was just silence between them, as the Predacons studied her warily. Eventually though, the one femme among them, Wolfang, spoke up.

"They call you the Traitor, you know." She was studying Blackwind with her cold, silvery optics. She was powerfully built, Blackwind noticed. Sturdy and strong, quick and lean. Well-built, as they usually said, though as a Predacon there had been little 'building' involved in constructing her form.

"I do know," Blackwind began, meeting the gaze out of the corner of her red optics, "And I don't care."

"You betrayed Lord Gigatron," the wolf continued, disregarding the Autobot's obvious irritation, "And joined with the Cybertrons, led by the  _ Huntress. _ "

"It wasn't much of a choice between the two of them," Blackwind replied, before adding, "It was a long, pointless conflict. Many died. If you were there-"

Wolfang snarled. "I was there! I was one of those who fought at the battle of Micrus!"

"Then you saw the Minicons being scrapped en masse by our people! As punishment for helping injured Cybertrons! What do you think of that, hm?"

The wolf was silent for a bit, before replying. "I think we did many shameful things in the so-called Beast Wars. I simply do not see why only  _ we  _ face scorn for it, when the Cybertrons were also to blame."

"Well, because in the beginning we  _ did  _ start it, first off. Then, there's the matter of Gigatron's legacy  _ after  _ the war."

The Predacon scoffed. "You do not seriously believe those rumors about him and Megatron! They are nonsense! Cybertron lies!"

Blackwind shook her head. "I fought Megatron, even met him in person during the Great War. He was a student of Gigatron's philosophy for sure, just  _ worse _ ."

The wolf seemed to be about to say something, but was interrupted by a buzzing on the intercom. Arcee’s voice came over it.

“So I remembered to get the backup running, and uh...we got inbound. You’re gonna wanna talk to them. They seem uh...upset, that we took these guys first.”

Blackwind narrowed her optics, then turned to Darkmoon and his clanmates. “I’m going to settle this. And I’m  _ not  _ giving you up, not to  _ them _ .” 

None of them looked terribly convinced, but she pressed on regardless and headed on to the cockpit. When she arrived, Jazz was already busy scrambling the controls; he had pulled the Predacons’ ship in with the  _ Avalon’ _ s grapplers, and now there was a ship within firing range. Though it was understandably several hundred kilometers away, she could still see it with her acute optics without need of the usual visual enhancement that the ship’s interface could provide. 

It was clearly a ship of Cybertron construction; not nearly as well-built as an Autobot vessel, as well-armed as a Decepticon one, or as thickly armored and just plain scary-looking as a Predacon one. It was boring, grey, and clearly designed by a bot with  _ zero  _ imagination. 

Jazz looked up at the Peace Marshall with apprehension. “So uh...they’re wanting to talk?”

Blackwind nodded. “Put ‘em through.”

He flipped the switch, and after a brief flicker a holoprojector sprang to life. A bot Blackwind didn’t recognize appeared before her optics, with a cruel expression and a symbol marking her as a Cybertron.

“I am Truncheon, officer of the Elite Guard of Cybertron,” she began, his voice clipped and cold, “And I am placing you under arrest!”


End file.
